


I'll Rationalize this Later

by Xyriath



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Completely Indulgent Pairings, DC/Marvel crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's just better not to think about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Rationalize this Later

_What am I doing?_

It seemed to be a near-constant question in the back of Tommy's mind, sneaking up on him when he was occupied—sexually or otherwise.  It would hit him at the most unexpected times: when in line at the store, groceries piled too high in two baskets, one on each arm (carts were for slow people).  As he was settling down in front of his television, curled up on his couch, where earlier that week, three feet to his right, he had been on his knees in front of it.  As he was getting fucked twelve ways from Tuesday into the mattress of _Doctor_ Thomas Elliot, moaning a name that was exactly the same as his own.

(It was weird, distracting sometimes.  Tommy occasionally wondered if it wouldn't be better to try last names instead, but then again, he didn't exactly consciously have time to think about whatever he gasped out, so who knew if trying would even work anyway.)

But really, what _was_ he doing?  Fuck, he hated doctors, would never have agreed to visit the guy if he hadn't _had_ to, if they hadn't found him someone who was willing to work outside of a hospital.  Had barely been able to look at him when they first met.  So what the hell had happened, between then and now, between biting remarks and biting of necks, between awkward checkups of his physical or mental state and hands pushing him backwards onto the couch in his office?   That smirk on Tommy Elliot's face as Tommy Shepherd's legs wrapped around his hips was still seared into—

But then he would try not to think about it.  Sometimes it would work.  Sometimes it wouldn't.  Sometimes it would drive him to distraction: the thought wouldn't leave his mind even as clothes began to strew the floor, as fingers tangled and lips met roughly,

Sometimes he could distract himself sufficiently, enough that it wouldn't occur to him for a good while, but then he would be straddling Tommy—the older Tommy's—lap, fingers lightly tracing the coppery trail up past his navel as the man lounged back beneath him.  And suddenly, Tommy found himself imagining what those large wrists would look like tied to the headboard with silk scarves, that large frame as its muscles tensed with anticipation, the positively and satisfyingly venomous look in those eyes.

_What am I doing?  He would never let me, anyway._

But sometimes—

_Tommy looked up from between a pair of thighs into those blue eyes, staring down at him as they tried to be disapproving but only managed hungry.  He tugged against the hand tangled in his hair, which was forcing his head to tilt back, then turned his head the slight amount he was allowed.  He ran his tongue over the thumb tracing his swollen lips, eyes never leaving Tommy's._

_"Fuck."_

_Well, the good doctor shouldn't have pulled him away from what he was doing._

_Tommy tugged the thumb into his mouth, nipping slightly with his teeth before starting to suck._

_"_ Fuck! _"_

_The hand released his hair, and he placed his own hands back on_ Doctor Elliot's _knees before leaning in again._

—sometimes, he knew exactly what the hell he was doing.

But then he'd catch a glimpse of a pleased smirk out of the corner of his eye, a sidelong glance in his direction, and he'd try his hardest not to smile back but never seemed to be able to resist the tug on the corners of his lips.  And it was then that he tried his hardest to pretend not to know why.


End file.
